


Keeping Promises

by sleeplesspensieve



Series: Lyra Lestrange [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, Death Eaters, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M, Torture, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-08-17 01:11:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16506386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeplesspensieve/pseuds/sleeplesspensieve
Summary: Three years have passed since Lyra's year of teaching at Hogwarts and she's made a new life for herself - a career, a husband and a child in Russia - but with news of Voldemort's return she returns to England, throwing herself into the thick of the war that is to come.





	1. A Conversation With Old Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhhh, we're finally here! I’m very excited to write this bit of the fanfiction. It has very much been playing in my head ever since beginning to even write Remedy For Guilt. In fact, this whole fanfiction literally just came to me as pretty much the ending scene of RFG and fragments of this so it’s actually crazy to finally be writing the bit I actually fantasised about!!!  
> I've been lacking a bit of motivation in terms of writing but I have a few chapters down so I'm slowly going to start posting them, hoping that it'll keep me accountable to write more.  
> I hope you enjoy the story that has painted itself in my head and taunted me for the past few months and thank you for taking the time to read it <3  
> I’d also like to thank my friends who have put up with me throwing ideas at them, especially Red_Artemis_Jane who wrote a bit of this story because I was stuck and makes the most amazing aesthetic posts for me on tumblr (username: of-starships-and-castles). Go check out her SnapexOC story https://archiveofourown.org/works/16006280/chapters/37347182 !  
> Anyway, without further ado, let us begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit 27/12/2018: A lovely reader from Norway pointed out that there is no sunset in Norway during the Winter month's so I have edited the chapter accordingly. Thanks for your feedback. I do read reviews and I love them. If you wanna contact me I'm available om tumblr under the name sleeplesspensieve and I've alos been RPing as Lyra on lyraxlestrange on tumblr so check it out if you want any headcanons and see her in different circumstances.

**August 1994**

* * *

On the northern coast of Norway a tall wooden house stood alone. Its baby blue wooden paneling stood out against the lush green backdrop of the hills and surrounding grass. The sunburnt orange sky painted the ocean purple, illustrating the end of the long summer day but also the beginning of a celebration as the midnight sun burnt brightly through the night.

Young Natalie was turning three.

Of course, night time wasn't a suitable time for a child's party, that would be held on the following day. The young girl's birthday was merely an excuse for Gustav and Syrin Novak to show off their recently built home to their old school friends. Gustav had written a few more successful news articles and Syrin had recently won a tournament allowing them to afford to move away from the busy inner towns and out to a more secluded and beautiful part of Norway.

Silhouettes appeared on the porch, seemingly from out of nowhere, arriving just in time to bask in the beauty of the scenery. After a quick glance around, the tallest and oldest of the four visitors reached forward and knocked on the door, one of his arms wrapped around a small child who was hanging over his shoulder. Gustav swung the door open and grinned widely as he saw his guests.

"Come in, come in," he insisted, stepping aside and allowing his friends to tunnel through the narrow hallway which spilled into the kitchen and adjoining dining area.

"Good to see you, Gus," said a woman as she passed through, giving the man a hug and a kiss on either cheek.

"Good to see you too, Lyra," he said with smile.

Lyra continued down the hall, her short brown hair bouncing with every step she took. Her eyes twinkled with wonder as she saw the large glass window panes that looked out onto the coast. She was so enamoured by the view that she didn't notice the blonde woman who stood behind the island countertop.

"Lyra!" the blonde exclaimed, pulling her attention away from the sights.

"Syrin," she smiled as she turned and embraced her old friend, "It's absolutely stunning."

"You should convince Ilya to move here," Syrin suggested.

She laughed, "Oh, he'd never quit his job at the ministry."

"What are you trying to convince my wife to do now?" Ilya said as he joined the two, kissing Syrin on the cheek.

"There's a block of land for sale next door," Syrin said, "It'd be good for little Cory to be close to Natalie." She tickled the toddler that was perched on his arm.

"Where is Natalie?"

"She's just in the living room, if you want to play," Syrin said, gesturing towards the door.

Corvus struggled against Ilya's grip, forcing him to place him down on the ground. As soon as his feet touched the floorboards he ran towards the ajar door. Ilya merely shook his head.

"Did you want a drink?" Syrin asked.

"A beer would be good," he said.

Syrin turned to Lyra, "And wine for you?"

Lyra smiled and nodded, "Is Anneli here yet?"

"You know her," Syrin laughed, "Always late."

Gustav had been chatting to their other companion, Feliks, in the hallway and finally joined the three of them. Twenty minutes passed before Anneli joined them, making their group whole and allowing them to go on with dinner. After dinner came the birthday cake and once Natalie and Corvus had their fill they both found themselves crashing on the couch. Once they had been put to bed the adults began to unwind and chat over a few more bottles of wine, relaxing in the lounge.

"Horrible what happened at the World Cup," Gustav commented.

"What happened?" Lyra asked.

"Ireland won," Feliks said, "I was rooting for Bulgaria."

"Not that," Gustav said.

"Death Eaters," Syrin said with a grim look.

Lyra's blood ran cold. Goosebumps covered her flesh as the icy feeling ran through her veins and threatened to stop her heart. She placed her wine glass down on the table in fear of dropping it, her hands were trembling.

"Look, the Ministry isn't worried," Feliks shrugged, throwing his beer back.

"The Norwegian Ministry is," Syrin replied, "They're considering not letting us partake in the European League if the British Ministry don't take action."

"What actually happened?" Lyra asked in a weak voice.

"Just a bunch of Death Eaters terrorising the campers," Gustav said, "They've been trying to cover it up and make sure it doesn't spread but it's hard to keep a cap on such a big event. I wasn't there but another reporter told me. They said they were lighting peoples tents on fire, torturing muggles and the Dark Mark was in the sky."

"Those poor muggles," Anneli said, earning a scoff from Ilya.

"Aren't your parents Death Eaters?" Gustav asked, "I remember that article Skeeter wrote on you."

"Yeah," Lyra sighed, leaning onto the arm rest of the couch and holding her head up with her hand.

"What are Death Eaters?" Anneli asked.

"They're followers of that Dark Wizard in Britain, he called himself Voldemort," Gustav answered. Lyra winced at the use of his real name. "He was killed by an infant back when we first started school."

"He's nothing compared to Grindelwald," Feliks said cockily.

"They had the right idea though," Ilya chimed in, "The eradication of muggles, the subservience of mudbloods and the rule of the purebloods. That's the world I want to live in."

"But why would they do all that if he's dead?" Syrin asked, directing her question towards Lyra.

"It probably doesn't mean anything, right?" Anneli said, "Just a few extremists rioting because they can."

Lyra shook her head, "They wouldn't do that for no reason." She paused, all eyes set on her as she continued. She was petrified, not from the attention but of what she knew was to come. "There were rumours that he didn't die, that his soul was ripped from his body and is wandering the earth."

"And how do you know that?" Feliks asked in a flippant tone.

Lyra ignored his condescension and answered, "At first, none of the Death Eaters believed he died. They kept searching for the answers, my family spearheaded that operation but nothing came of it. After their arrest combined with the many others that followed the Death Eaters went quiet. Every time I went and saw my mother she'd ramble about it and tell me it was my duty to seek him out but I didn't want to."

"Then how do you know it's true?" Feliks said.

"As I said, they were just rumours," Lyra replied, "But Albus Dumbledore believed he'd come back."

Syrin began to look visibly upset at Lyra's words, "What will it mean?"

"Nothing," Ilya said, "We're safe, we're pure and we're far away from all that nonsense but I wouldn't mind joining Voldemort if he asked."

"Don't use his name," Lyra said, her eyes squeezed tightly.

"Why?" he asked.

"Why?" she repeated in an escalating tone before chuckling to herself, "Because you are not worthy to speak it. Do you know how many people I saw get torn apart just for using the Dark Lord's name?"

"How much did you see?" Anneli asked, "During the war?"

"Enough to be afraid," Lyra responded, the goosebumps still obvious on her skin as her thoughts drifted to old buried memories.


	2. Conversations Between Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, you should check out my RP tumblr for Lyra http://lyraxlestrange.tumblr.com I've been putting up headcanons and RPing with a few people so if you can't get enough of this story hit me up there!

**August 1994**

* * *

A shrill scream rang out through Malfoy Manor, one of that belonging to a woman. A laugh followed, one that the young girl who sat in the room of the lounge recognised. It was quickly muted by a flick of a wand, the young Lucius Malfoy's face was tense and bitter.

"I don't know why they had to do this here," he muttered as he flicked his wand to the cabinet, a bottle of wine emerged and poured itself into a crystal glass before he plucked it from the air. "You're alright," he said to the girl who had a panicked look on her face, her eyes glancing at the door.

She looked over to the man and closed her eyes swallowing hard before looking down at the book she had in her hands. Her eyes reread the passage and she watched the animated dragon fly high in the sky on the pages of the book. The act did nothing to calm her nerves, in her mind she could still hear the scream and the laugh, causing her much distress.

Lucius took a seat at the grand piano that sat in the centre of the room and he lifted the cover, beginning to play. The young girl lost interest in her book, instead taken by the melody that flowed flawlessly from the instrument and the way his fingers danced over the keys. She closed her book and walked over for a closer look.

Lucius smiled at the girl's curiosity and he paused, instantly she shied away thinking she had done something wrong to make him stop playing. She was such a frightful girl, terrified of the world and what lay in it. "Would you like to play, Lyra?" he asked.

"I don't know how," she said with a frown.

"Come, I'll teach you," he said, shifting on the stool and patting the spot next to him. "I don't bite, I promise."

She looked so uncertain of herself but she went and sat next to her uncle.

"Now, there are seven notes in music," he explained to the girl, "C," he pressed down on the key before slowly moving up and stating each note, "D, E, F, G, A, B and then we're back to C."

"What about the black ones?" she asked.

"They sit in between," he explained, "C sharp," he pressed the black key and followed the same lesson, "D sharp, F sharp, G sharp and A sharp. Are you with me so far?"

She nodded and pressed the C key nearest to where she was sitting then ascended, stating each note. Lucius smiled and continued the lesson, beginning to teach her music theory and a short tune before they were interrupted by the door being pushed open.

"Mum," the girl said with a smile, sliding off the chair.

"Is uncle Lucy teaching you how to play piano?" her mother asked.

The girl glanced back at her uncle then back at her mum and nodded.

"How lovely," she said, "Come I have something to show you." Bellatrix's smile was menacing but young Lyra was all too trusting of her mother and she took her hand, allowing herself to be guided to another room.

Before that door even opened the world turned black.

Lyra woke up in her bed in a cold sweat. She could recall perfectly how that memory ended with the sight of a dead body and she did not feel the need to relive that terror.

Ever since that conversation about the events that transpired during the World Cup Lyra had been having hyper-realistic dreams of her memories from when she was a child during the war. Fear would grip her heart as she woke as she walked in the same footsteps as she did as child with no control over what happened. It was like she was paralysed, forced to live out those memories.

Oh, how she wished she had taken note of Severus' Draught of Restful Peace. She was scared of the possibility that she may not sleep restfully for a very long time to come. A week had already passed since that conversation and it haunted her in every aspect of her life.

When she wasn't working she was thinking; thinking about her options in the face of the very possible reality that the Dark Lord could return very soon. She debated with herself as to whether she should go back, whether she should take Corvus or leave him. She was paralysed with indecision and her mind had decided to punish her for that, reminding her of when she was younger and the things she had to go through.

She didn't want Corvus to live through that.

It didn't help that her family back in England had refused to answer her owls. Of course, they wouldn't want to write anything incriminating on the small chance they'd be intercepted but it was frustrating. Even Narcissa hadn't popped by as she usually did once a month to spend time with her great-nephew.

She really didn't want to apparate over, it was a pain in the ass. She had to apparate into three separate countries to avoid splinching herself which was something she knew from experience. The first time she had left her forearm behind. It was lucky she was a healer because that would've been embarrassing to explain.

Reluctantly, she got out of bed. It was about 7pm - a result of her late night work schedule. She had taken the night shift to work on her research so she wouldn't miss out on as much quality time with Corvus. She'd work from 9pm until 7am, Feliks and Ilya had work from 8am til 4pm so she'd sneak in a quick nap until Corvus woke up and then spend the day with him, crashing when he crashed. It was complicated but they made it work. Lyra had been determined to finish her healing qualification and to absorb as much as she could in different fields, spending the past six months working on magical bites.

"Hey, what are you doing up?" Feliks asked as she made her way into the kitchen.

"Can't sleep," she said, taking a seat at the dining table with her two friends.

They both frowned as she sat. "Are you hungry?" Feliks asked, "I made some pierogi."

She smiled, "I'm not hungry but I'd love to take some to work."

"No worries," he said, "I'll pack some for you."

"You haven't slept right since you found out about the World Cup," Ilya said with a look of concern.

"Is Corvus asleep?" she asked.

"I just put him down," Feliks replied, "Out like a light."

"I just feel like I need to go back," she said, "I know it's dumb but it's just not sitting right with me."

"Will you take Corvus?" Ilya asked.

"I don't know," she sighed, "I'd rather not, it'd be too dangerous."

"Ilya and I will figure something out," Feliks said, "Don't worry."

"Still haven't heard from your aunt?" Ilya asked.

She shook her head with a frown.

"You should check in on your family," he insisted.

"Yeah," she said with a heavy sigh, "I might just pop over. I don't think I'll be able to sleep."

The two men nodded and Lyra took her leave, dressing herself in something presentable before apparating away. She stopped by Poland, near its border with Belarus, and Germany before landing in front of the Malfoy Manor. She took a deep breath before walking forward through the wrought iron gates that surrounded the Malfoy estate and down the paved footpath.

As she walked up the steps of the porch there was a jarring, haunting melody being played on the piano that came to an abrupt halt as she pushed the front door open. She shrugged off her coat and hung it on the hook as she heard firm footsteps approached her, coming from the living room and soon. She saw her Uncle's face appear from behind the staircase, looking slightly sunken and drained before it was replaced by a cheery expression.

"Lyra, my dear," he smiled, "What brings you here?"

"Possibly the fact that you haven't written back to me," she said, "Or that Cissy didn't show up for her usual monthly meeting."

"Oh yes," Lucius responded, pretending as though he had just recalled. "Narcissa needed to take Draco into Diagon Alley so he could purchase some things."

"Right," Lyra said, slightly annoyed. "And that couldn't warrant a letter?"

"She probably just forgot," he said with a shrug. "Anywho, come, sit, drink with me like old times."

She tilted her head slightly in annoyance as she watched her uncle turn and walk into the drawing room. Indignantly, she followed, knowing that it would be the only way she would be able to get answers from him.

Her wine glass was already hovering and waiting for her as she entered the room, she took it and sat in the armchair next to her uncle.

"You look tired, dear niece," he said, "Are you not sleeping well?"

"In light of recent events, no," she said in a tone that was perhaps a little too sharp.

"Corvus keeping you up at night?" he asked, "Or is it your nightmares again?" She looked away, her reaction giving away her answer. "Ah, what is it this time?"

"It's different every night," she said, "Things from the war. I just woke up from one where you first taught me the piano. You know, before Mum…" She trailed off, her face slightly pained.

Lucius' lips twitched in discomfort before he pursed them, "You shouldn't be apparating cross-country in this state."

"I've been trying to get a hold of you for a week, uncle," she said.

He shook his head, "What helped you before?"

She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. Her arms tingled at the memory of Severus and his touch. "Severus brewed me something," she said, "Something of his own creation. The Draught of Peaceful Rest is what he called it."

"Then I shall get him to brew it for you again."

"You two are still friendly?"

"Of course," he said, "You did do quite a number on him but he's over it."

"Are you over him fucking your niece?" she asked with a smirk.

He cringed in distaste before saying, "I hope you don't use such unpleasant language around others. It helped you realise your role, did it not?"

"Sure," she said, taking a sip of wine. Their conversation lulled for a moment, Lyra watching her uncle as he took a sip of wine. She shuffled in her seat whilst she attempted to gain her nerve to broach the subject that had been plaguing her thoughts for the past week. "Uncle," she said softly, ensuring he looked over to acknowledge her. "What happened during the World Cup?"

He tensed for a moment before playing it cool, "Whatever do you mean?"

"The display after the match," she asked, "Surely that was you, Crabbe, Goyle, whoever else."

His eyes narrowed at his niece, "As you say, it was a display."

Her lips thinned with impatience, "For what purpose?"

"I know you're intelligent enough to piece it together," he said with equal disdain, "I gather that's why you're here."

"So, he's back?"

"I would tell you if he was."

"So his return is imminent?" her eyes glanced down at his left arm and he moved with discomfort as she stared. "Can I see?"

His jaw tensed and he unbuttoned the cuff of his dress shirt, sliding it up and showing it to his niece. There in all its glory, the Dark Mark with thicker lines and a darker colour than she recalled when she had seen Severus' those few years ago. "Are you satisfied?" he asked, earning a small nod from his niece. He pulled his sleeve back down and buttoned it back up, draining the remainder of his wine after he did so.

"I think I need to move back," she said, her brows furrowed.

"Why?"

"Because I can't just wait idly by," she said, "At least I can plant myself back at St. Mungo's and be of some use when he returns."

"What about your husband? What about Corvus?"

"I doubt he'd want to leave his job at the ministry," she replied, "Perhaps I can leave Corvus with him, keep him away from everything."

"A child needs their mother."

It wasn't Lucius who had spoken, instead the dulcet tones of a woman. Both Lucius and Lyra turned their head towards the door and saw Narcissa standing there.

Lyra frowned, "I don't want Cory to go through what I did."

Narcissa shook her head, "But you shouldn't keep Corvus away from you for so long, that could be more detrimental."

"Than being exposed to torture and death at a young age? Not sure about that."

"You can't expect Ilya to be able to look after Corvus," her aunt argued, "He has a full time job. Bring him here, I'll help you look after him."

"I'll have to talk to Ilya about it," she said.

"But of course," Lucius said, "For now you need to rest. You can sleep in your old room. I don't want you apparating until you're well rested, don't want you splinching yourself."

"Thank you, Uncle, Aunty," she said, "I'll be excusing myself now."

Lyra slid past Narcissa as she moved into the room, no doubt to discuss logistics with her husband. It made Lyra uncomfortable to think that after all these years her aunt and uncle were still trying to dictate how she should live her life, now her child's. It was one of the many reasons Lyra had chosen to move so far away. With her aunt and uncle far away they couldn't negatively influence Corvus in the way that they had done to her. Of course they'd still catch up on big family events such as birthdays and holidays but it was obvious the dynamic between them all had changed. Though she looked up to them and respected them, they no longer ruled over her life and she would prefer to keep it that way.

It was times like these when she thought of the Tonks family and her Aunt Andromeda. She was in a much better position cut off from the pure blood ideologies that had ruled her life, even though it meant cutting off her sisters. Perhaps Lyra should've taken a page out of her book but she was much too sentimental for that, valuing her relationship with the Malfoy's as the people who'd raised her which why she was back here in the first place.

She was now in her old bedroom, nothing had changed. As she settled into bed, she felt sleep easily wash over her. Perhaps it was the familiarity of her old bedroom that gave her comfort to sleep. Maybe it was that she felt more at ease after her discussion with her family. All she knew was that when she woke up the next morning she felt more rested than she had for the past week.

She was reluctant to leave that morning in the early hours of the day, her heart longing to stay and catch up with her family and hear stories from her dear cousin's escapades but she knew that Ilya and Feliks would be leaving for work soon.

With a quickly scrawled note addressed to her aunt and uncle, Lyra left the Malfoy Manor and apparated back to her home in Russia. She landed just in time for the boys' breakfast routine, Corvus sitting up in his high chair with them.

"Mummy!" he called out as he reached out towards her.

"Good morning, Cory," she said, walking over to the boy and pecking him on the forehead.

"How are the Malfoy's?" Feliks asked, "I gather you stayed the night?"

"Yeah, I did," Lyra said as she took a seat at their dining table next to her son.

"You look better," Ilya said, "Well rested."

Feliks nodded in agreement before asking, "So what's the plan?"

"I think I need to move back," Lyra explained, "I can't just wait here for something to happen. I'll probably get a job at St. Mungo's and live with the Malfoy's again."

"Are you taking Cory?" Ilya asked.

"Honestly, I don't want to take him," she sighed, "He'd be safer here with you two but Narcissa is insistent I take Cory with me and she'll help look after him."

"And our marriage? Won't they be suspicious?"

Lyra shook her head, "I don't think so, they'll think we've just gone our separate ways. I told them you wouldn't be willing to leave your job at the ministry. Otherwise you could come weekends and we could pretend?"

"I mean, Russia is starting to loosen up their laws about homosexuality," Feliks said, "You two could get divorced and maybe we…"

"No," Ilya said, "Do not be fooled by the laws. I do not think their hearts have changed so easily."

"But it's something," Feliks said.

"Because we can legally have sex?" Ilya replied, "It is still considered a mental illness. There is a long way to go."

An awkward tension hung between the three of them before Lyra spoke up. "Look, we can remain married for legal purposes," Lyra said, "I have no desire to marry anyone else so I am not too stressed. We'll see one another occasionally to maintain the illusion that we're still together, just separate due to work and family commitments." She glanced at the clock, "Anyway, you two should be off otherwise you'll be late."

"We will discuss this more when we get home," Ilya said before giving Lyra and Corvus a hug goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure when I'll post the next chapter, I've been stuck on writing Chapter Four for a long time so we'll see. I'm going away for a bit so I won't be posting for a while but you'll see me on tumblr. Hope you enjoyed.


	3. St. Mungo's

**November 1994**

* * *

St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries were more than happy to have Lyra back on board as an employee given her stellar history. Her published works and Order of Merlin gave her a job with a large office space with the freedom to work on whichever project she saw fit. She spent most of her days switching between hands on healing and helping her colleagues with the development of their own cures and remedies to ailments, allowing her to keep up to date with current practical and theoretical techniques. 

It was a welcomed break from the work she had been doing in Russia, spending six months rotating between each ward in order to both complete her Healer qualification as well as determine her specialisation. Every aspect of healing fascinated her from the psychological to the physical but her passion still lay in research. She had spent a lot of time working under a Healer who was working towards the refinement of wolfsbane and developing a cure for Lycanthropy but it was an ambitious project. She mainly worked with the infected individuals with occasionally dabbling in the art of potion-making. 

Now, Lyra’s free time at St. Mungo’s was dedicated to researching the Dark Arts and its practical applications in healing. Of course, there was a lot of other stuff to sift through but it was rather interesting - purely from a scholar’s perspective. Lyra enjoyed learning and absorbing all there was to know about things that interested her and the Dark Arts were definitely included on that list. She had avoided it for a time, afraid that it would corrupt her mind but she believed that she now had the maturity to approach it just as theory and not as something to mess with. 

As Lyra was buried in her studies she heard a knock on the door. Quickly, she disguised the books that were on her table and called the visitor in. 

The door swung open and all too familiar silhouette entered the room, standing there in all his glory. He was wearing his iconic bowler hat and half moon spectacle combo, his brilliant blue eyes accentuated by the soft purple colour of his robes. He smiled at Lyra, his eyes disappearing as he did so. 

“Miss Lestrange,” he said, “Or should I call you Mrs Novikov?”

“I go by Ms Lestrange or Healer Lestrange,” she said with a smile, “Either will do.” She drew her wand and summoned a comfy armchair, “What can I do for you today, Albus? Not another vacant Defense Against The Dark Arts position, I hope.”

The wizard chuckled, “No, no. Most definitely not.” He walked forward and sat in the seat, “Alastor Moody has taken that position.”

Lyra’s mind ticked over as the name rang a bell, “Auror?”

“Yes,” he responded, “The very same one that trained your cousin, Nymphadora.”

“Ah,” she said in realisation, “But an auror? And unstable one at that for a teaching position?”

“We have resumed the Triwizard Tournament,” he said, “Beauxbatons and Durmstrang have arrived and we’ve been having an interesting time.”

“I see. Send my regards to Karkaroff,” she said with a smirk, but her amusement wasn’t well received. “Would you like anything? Tea, coffee?”

“No, no, I won’t bother you for too long,” he said, “I just have something I’d like to discuss.”

Lyra straightened up in her seat, “Go on then.”

“I fear that Voldemort’s return is inevitable,” he said in a grave voice, “Surely you have seen the signs, I assume that’s why you’ve moved back.” He paused for her to nod before he continued, “Lyra, I must ask you to keep an eye out for Severus and protect him upon his return.”

“Albus, I told you before, I can’t guarantee his safety.”

“I know,” he said, “But it is of vital importance. If not I may have to ask you to take his place.”

“I hope it doesn’t come to that but I will try my best,” she said.

“You still love him, don’t you?” he asked in a knowing tone.

Lyra frowned slightly, her hands went to her neck and played with the silver chain of her necklace. “It’s hard not to when I look at a reminder of his face every day.”

“How is your child?”

“He’s good,” she said, turning over a photo frame to show Albus. He picked it up and looked closely. “His name is Corvus, he’s a very sweet boy, quiet and gentle. I swear as each day passes he looks more and more like his father.”

Albus smiled sadly, still holding the frame. “He does look a bit like him, your good looks though.” 

Lyra exhaled a small laugh but her heart felt slightly weighted.


	4. Conversations with the Dark Lord

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of updates, I swear I'm still working on this! I'm about halfway through the next chapter. I just lost a lot of muse for writing but I've still been active on tumblr, particularly on my lyraxlestrange account so hmu on there to chat <3  
> Rather graphic description up ahead.

**June 1995**

It seemed to be a typical summer night in the Malfoy household. Lyra had arrived home from work and after spending some time with her son, Corvus was tucked into bed and read a story from  _ The Tales of Beedle and the Bard _ . Once he was sound asleep she had joined her Aunt and Uncle for a drink in the lounge room.

The three unwound and caught up about the day; Lucius and Narcissa speaking fondly about Corvus’ growth before touching upon Lyra’s work then the current state of the ministry. But, unlike any other night their conversation came to an abrupt halt when Lucius let out a weak hiss of pain and clutched his left forearm. A worried looks overcame both of the women as he stood up, grabbed a sobering potion and gave his wife a peck on the forehead before apparrating away.

The air seemed to change in that moment; a sense of dread set in and an uncomfortable quiet echoed between the two women as their stomachs churned and their minds silently prayed for his safe returning . The wine seemed to do nothing to quell their nerves. Lyra would look to her aunt and hope for her to say something but she seemed so cold and distant as the truth was screaming at the both of them.

The Dark Lord was back.

This was the moment that Lyra had been preparing for more than half of her life. She had expected it, anticipated it, prepared for it and now the time had come.

Her uncle would be presenting himself to their Lord and she knew it would come at a great risk. She was sure that their demonstration at the World Cup was to prove their loyalty when his return was inevitable but there was an unsettling feeling that it wouldn’t be enough. There were years unaccounted for, years that they could’ve spent searching for him. And Lyra knew she would not be exempt from those expectations, surely the Dark Lord would be disappointed in her too and look upon her unfavourably.

Every minute dragged on. It felt as though several hours had passed before Lucius’ return when in fact it had only been just over one. 

He looked slightly dishevelled, his hair seemed unkempt for his standards and in there was a blank, numbing expression in his cold grey eyes. He looked towards his niece and held out his hand, “He wants to see you.”

Her stomach dropped, her nerves on fire. She could feel her body trembling at the thought of facing the Dark Lord. To take her Uncle’s hand was to take a step down a path evil and twisted with no hope of return. To refuse was to accept certain death.

Lyra knew all she had at stake. It was not only her life on the line but her son’s too.  That was what had driven her to moving in the first place. Better for her to walk in aware than to be hunted like a terrified animal. 

Lyra stood, her feelings were pushed aside. Now was not the time to be nervous, instead she needed to be strong. There was so much riding on her success and her ability to keep her mind clear. Instead of giving into the pressure, she would need to live up to the expectations she and others held of her. So, she cleared her mind, pushing away every thought and feeling, her mind guarded the memories she held dear and those that would incriminate her.

Her hand slipped into her uncle’s and for a brief moment she found comfort in his touch. His grip was firm and steadying. She looked up into his eyes and his grey pierced her brown ones that were full of worry and she found sympathy in his. All she wanted was to hug him tightly for what might be the last time but she felt herself be pulled thin and stretched tight through space. The sensation of apparation did nothing to quell the nauseating feeling that had overwhelmed her for the past hour. Her feet landed on soft grass and the cool night air caused goosebumps to prick up on her skin but that wasn’t the only thing that caused it.

Standing in front of her in all of his glory was the Dark Lord.

He looked terrifying, less than human. He was thin and gaunt, the colour of his skin a milky white as though all his life had been drained and he was merely a corpse reanimated. His face resembled that of a snake, a flat snout instead of a nose with slits as nostrils. His eyes were a fierce red with the appearance that one look alone could kill someone.

Lyra’s heart felt as though it would stop beating at the sight of something so evil, so damaged but she didn’t dare look away once her eyes had laid upon him. Instead she took a knee, kneeling like a knight would to their king. “My Lord,” she said, her eyes closed and her head bowed. 

“Rise,” he said and Lyra followed his instruction, her gaze still downcast. He approached and trailed a finger across her face, fear growing in her heart at the lingering touch. “Lyra Lestrange,” he addressed the girl, tilting her head up to look into her eyes. “Do you know why I brought you here?”

Her heart felt as though it was about to burst out of her chest but she ignored its pounding and focused on keeping her mind clear. “No, my lord.”

“Your parents were loyal to me, they still are,” he said, stepping back and beginning to circle her as though she was prey. Her gaze lingered to where he stood before and she took notice of her surroundings. Herself and her Uncle were surrounded by Death Eaters, hooded and masked. They stood in a field of some sort, decorated in gravestones, a cemetery. “Am I right to assume that you too are loyal to me?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Then why did you not seek me out?”

“I have no valid excuse, my lord,” she answered, “For a time I did believe in your return but so many years passed and I lost faith, therefore when I became of age and my parents asked me to seek you out I did not believe them.” She bowed her head, “I… I am ashamed, my lord, and I ask for your forgiveness.”

He reached out and propped her head up once more, his piercing red eyes boring into her soft brown ones. “Where were you when my Mark was cast into the sky last summer?”

“I believe I would have been in Russia, my lord,” she said, “I did not hear of it until the week following and upon hearing the news I returned to Malfoy Manor.” As the memory came to the forefront of her mind she felt it being played and watched by the Dark Lord as he invaded her mind.

“You have a son?” he asked, “And what of your husband?”

“We have gone our separate ways.”

He attempted to confirm this by prying into her mind but he found himself blocked as he went deeper. “Let me in,” he demanded.

“I don’t know how,” she answered.

“Try,” he urged, “Or it will be painful.” The Dark Lord attempted again with more force and Lyra tried to open her mind slightly. Little snippets of her memories leaked out but nothing of importance. He tried to pry and pry again but it was pointless. He pointed his wand at her and said, “ _ Crucio.” _

Lyra fell to her knees in pain as her bones felt as though they were on fire. She screamed out in pain, her eyes were closed and tears leaked out but she refused to writhe in pain. It was over as quickly as it started and the Dark Lord commanded her to look back up. She did so and he tried to pry once more but there was nothing, if anything the curse had strengthened her occlumency.

Annoyed, he tried once more with force. “ _ Crucio!” _

A scream ripped through Lyra this time, she began to writhe in pain. The feeling was unbearable, like nothing she had felt before. Her head felt as though it was about to be split open and she tried to hold herself together, her arms wrapped around herself. As she was lying on the dirt, the Dark Lord stepped over and attempted to breach her defenses once more. 

This time it gave out. 

Lyra felt as though her life was replaying in front of her eyes as the Dark Lord flicked through her memories. The ones he paid attention too seemed to slow down and Lyra relieved it along with him. Her mother teaching her the Cruciatus Curse… The tortured screams of the Longbottom couple… The arrest of her mother, father and uncle… Snippets of conversation between Lucius and other Death Eaters as they slowly turned their backs… The torture of Igor Karkaroff… Lyra’s many visits to Azkaban to see her parents... It went on but Lyra had already filtered out everything she didn’t want him to see and they all hid behind the memories, preventing her secrets from spilling out.

He began to go through the memories of her year of teaching. How cold Severus was to her… Her want of friendship… A frustrating dance between the two… Some semblance of a friendship but nothing more… Every intimate moment between the two had been erased and the rest of her years went by quickly with the birth of Corvus and her work as a healer up until this point.

Her mind was released from his grasp and exhaustion overcame her. All she wanted in that moment was to rest, her body aching and her mind violated but she knew she couldn’t. Her arms steadied herself on the ground as she pushed up and made herself stand once more, her uncle reaching out to take her hand but she dismissed it, not wanting to seem weak.

As she was dusting the dirt from her hands the Dark Lord spoke to her once more. “Your life has been interesting to say the least, an accomplished witch with an Order of Merlin, no doubt you would be of great use to our cause.” 

Lyra bowed her head, “It would be the greatest honour to serve you, my lord.”

The Dark Lord turned to address his audience but before he could a loud pop was heard from afar. Lyra’s head turned towards the source of the noise, as did everybody else there, and watched as shadowed figure approached the circle. As he neared Lyra’s heart stopped for a moment as the man stepped out of the darkness and the moonlight illuminated his face.

Severus.

Four years had passed and not a thing had changed. Maybe his hair was a little longer but he was still dressed in those dark navy blue robes with an excess of buttons and his black eyes seemed to tunnel forever. It seemed so easy to get lost in them once more. All her old feelings returned with a mixture of new; love, heartache, worry, remorse but most of all, in that moment, she was afraid. Afraid for his life. 

Silently she prayed for his life, she prayed that she could somehow save him or that the Dark Lord would spare him.

And with that silent prayer she let go of the emotions that had flooded her for now was not the time to mourn over lost love or to be sensitive. Now was the time to play her role and play it well, not only for her sake but for his.

“Severus,” said Dumbledore, “You know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready… if you are prepared…”

“I am.”

He looked slightly paler than usual, his cold black eyes glittered strangely. 

“Then, good luck,” said Dumbledore and watched, with a trace of apprehension on his face, as Snape left the room. 

Despite the years of preparation that lead up to that moment, Severus seemed to cling to those words, wishing for all the luck in the world in order for him to survive the night. His head was already reeling with the details of what had transpired over the past few hours but the faint burn of his Dark Mark kept it from spinning out of control, almost as if the pain was soothing him and grounding him. 

He kept his head up high, his walk powerful and dignified as he strode towards the outskirts of Hogwarts. With every step he took he cleared his mind, ensuring that particular memories were closed off and that he was ready to resume his role as spy to the Death Eaters. 

As he spun, focusing on the Dark Mark he landed somewhere far from Hogwarts. It was scant with trees, a hill on one side with an old house that sat upon it. With a quick sweeping glance he surveyed his surroundings and saw the crowd of men in black cloaks nearby, looking in his direction. He walked forward and recognised the faces of the men, all of which Potter had recited but standing in the centre, in front of their Lord was Lucius Malfoy accompanied by a face he hadn’t seen in years.

Lyra Lestrange.

Their eyes lingered on one another for a moment. Her eyes were still brown yet no longer warm and soft as they had been, instead seemed were cold and distant. Her hair was now shorter almost at his own length but with a bit more volume and life to it. Her face, still beautiful and sweet as he remembered despite the hardened expression she wore to keep her emotions at bay.  He recognised that her thoughts were guarded under an air of Occlumency which seemed much stronger than when he had taught her.   
He felt a dull ache in his chest as he was reminded of the heartbreak she had caused him. His memories seemed to flood back in that moment, memories he had kept hidden and buried for his own protection. His stomach twisted slightly as he recalled but as quickly as they came they left, Severus placing them back in the guarded box in which they belonged - not for her sake but for his own. 

“So good of you to join us, Professor,” The Dark Lord hissed, bringing his attention back to the present, his feet still carrying him to the centre of the circle. He watched as Lyra was swiftly pulled away with a gentle tug of her arm by Lucius, the two of them folding back into the throng of Death Eaters, Lyra ironically taking the place in which her mother would be standing.

Severus knelt after reaching the spot the uncle and niece had just cleared and whispered a lowly, “My Lord,” his head bowed deeply. 

Voldemort cackled at the gesture before spitting venom, “I see that despite the fact that you couldn’t be bothered gracing us with your presence earlier, nor search for me after all these years, you present yourself to me like a faithful servant.” He looked down at the man, disgust evident in his expression. “Stand up,” he demanded and Severus stood, looking straight ahead.

The Dark Lord paced around Severus, his eyes sizing him up, circling him as though he was prey. “I hear no apologies from you, I see no prostration,” he sneered before nearing him. “So tell us Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin House, Potions Master of Hogwarts,” he said in a raised voice, throwing each title at him as though it was an insult. “What is your excuse? Why leave your life of comfort and present yourself to us now?”

His voice was shrill, the teasing becoming anger. Severus steadied his thoughts, he would not let the goading weaken his resolve.

The Dark Lord pouted slightly and said in a mocking tone, “Had enough of being Dumbledore’s little lapdog?” That question earned a light chuckle from the crowd of Death Eaters. His head tilted slightly, “Or perhaps you have come here once more for the salvation of another’s life?” He smirked, “Who is it this time? Another mudblood?”

Severus didn’t take the bait; his mind closed, his face blank and his eyes focused ahead. His years of occlumency practice came into play, naturally blocking the emotions that stirred within him as the Death Eaters surrounding him chuckled at his humiliation.

“I’m waiting…” The Dark Lord said, gesturing dramatically and glaring at the Potions Master. 

“I could not leave my post when you called, my Lord,” Severus said.

“Your post?” the Dark Lord repeated, pausing for a moment as his eyes narrowed in skepticism.

“I have spent past fourteen years at Hogwarts as per your last order, gaining the trust of Albus Dumbledore,” Severus answered, “For me to leave at the time you called would undo the work that I have done and I would be of less use to you, my lord.”

“I, and I alone, will determine whether or not you are of use or not,” Voldemort said, nearing Severus once more and bringing his face offensively close to Severus’. “Why should I trust a man who has spent so many years curled up in our enemies’ lap? What’s to say you were not Albus’ from the very start? Our servant at Hogwarts has been watching you and suspected your intentions. He believes that you secured your place with Dumbledore long before I fell - that from the very start you intended to deceive and mislead us all. Tell me, where is Crouch?”

“He was discovered, my Lord,” Severus said, “He confessed the whole plot and met his end through the Dementor’s kiss.”

Voldemort’s nostrils flared at the news, his lips pursed. “Useful information but I need more,” he pointed his wand at Severus and wordlessly cast ‘ _ legilimens’.  _ He found his attack blocked with ease, the spell bouncing off his mind as though he had made no attempt. 

The Dark Lord’s grip tightened on his wand as his anger and impatience grew. “ _ Crucio! _ ” he cast, his emotion evident in his voice. 

Severus fell to the ground in pain, his body writhing as his nerves went haywire; feeling as though he was being flayed alive, his blood boiling and burning as they coursed through him. The intensity of the pain felt unbearable but his mind stayed strong, knowing that it soon would end. 

“Let me in!” The Dark Lord demanded in a tone more fierce than when he had asked Lyra to do the same. Another  _ ‘legilimens’ _ was cast but Severus’ mind had not yet weakened enough to let him in. 

It wasn’t as though he was consciously holding his thoughts secret, his occlumency had become second nature to him. He had learned to compartmentalise his emotions and memories. It was how he survived. 

He’d admit that there were times he lost his cool and was a slave to his emotions but it seemed as though his body knew when that it couldn’t show them; when it was too dangerous to be vulnerable. 

Would it know that it was dangerous to shield it as well?

The Dark Lord repeated this a few more times but his impatience got the best of him. He knew that it would take much more to break Severus than it did Lyra. He hadn’t even gotten close to scraping his thoughts yet. 

“Macnair!” The Dark Lord called out, addressing his servant, “Perhaps you would like the pleasure of loosening Severus’ mind?”

A sickening smirk was apparent on the man’s face as he stepped forward, “It would be an honour, my Lord.”

Dread filled the pit of Severus’ stomach, knowing the true nature of Macnair. He didn’t become an executioner for the Ministry of Magic for no good reason. He was cruel and twisted, perhaps the worst in the inner circle. 

Severus became overly sensitive to the sensations he was experiencing; his heart pounding, his stomach filling with acid, the sound of Macnair’s footsteps against the ground as he approached him. 

Somehow, Severus had managed to sit himself up on the cold dirt, one arm holding him up. He tried to maintain a blank look, not allowing the fear to reflect on his face as he looked up slightly dazed at the black cloaked people in front of him. His eyes caught the sight of Macnair’s wand slicing through the air, directed at him. 

A low growl ripped from him, escalating to higher pitched yell as he felt his body assaulted in a way that was so much more painful than that of the cruciatus curse. This pain was real. It wasn’t just his nerves firing and telling him he was in pain, his bones had been crushed all through his right arm, seemingly one by one over from the tips of his fingers, all the way to his shoulder blades. His flesh was twisting in a manner that stimulated the newly exposed nerves constantly. Tears spilled from him in pain as he tried to clutch the mangled mess that was his right arm with his left. 

The Dark Lord attempted to penetrate his mind once more. He could feel the pain his servant was in and it brought him great pleasure knowing his barrier was slowly fading. “Again,” he commanded Macnair. 

The torturer obliged, with another swish wand movement and Severus dropped his left arm as his bones exploded inside him. The shattered corners of each piece of bone felt as though it was cutting him from the inside. His memories began to leak through the tiny hole that had been made in his mind. 

Voldemort’s smirk only grew. “More,” he ordered. 

Wordlessly, Macnair moved his wand in another manner, a sharp twist in the air that made Severus feel as though some sort spectral was wrapping around his chest and crushing him. It expelled all the breath from his lungs and he felt his ribs crack under the pressure.

When it finally released, he breathed in quickly but there was no relief. He felt as though he was suffocating. He tried to draw for more breath but his body failed, if anything it felt worst. His breaths were quick and shallow, his body desperate for air. He began to cough and he felt fluid come up, the taste of blood filled his mouth.

He spat it out onto the ground, the red gleaming on the floor of the earth. He longed to wipe the excess from his lips but there was no use. His arms were completely useless, mangled and flopping around. There were a few laughs from the Death Eaters that were looking on, taking pleasure in his humiliation.

It felt unbearable; the humiliation, the pain, his failures.

He felt as though in that moment he had failed. He knew long before this moment that he would be tested but he didn’t expect this. He didn’t expect to crumble so easily after a few bouts of torture. 

He lay in the dirt with broken bones, blood and spit surrounding his mouth, struggling to breathe.

He wouldn’t have minded if he just died in that moment. Anything for everything to stop. The Killing Curse would be the greatest mercy. After everything he had been through, not just in that moment but in his life, death would be a sweet release and he could almost taste it.

Yet, his body fought it. It clinged for dear life, even if it meant coughing and spluttering for it in the most degrading way.

Severus looked up at the Dark Lord, his red eyes staring into him and penetrating him easily. His memories slipped through with ease, playing from the most recent and rolling back. Albus asking Severus to return… The revealing of Barty Crouch Junior… The fresh burn of the Dark Mark and the fleeing of Igor Karkaroff… Countless conversations with Albus… They all flicked by quickly and as they did, the Dark Lord’s expression grew in pleasure. 

“You please me, Severus,” The Dark Lord said, “Macnair fix him back up. We have more to discuss.”

With a begrudged nod, Macnair waved his wand at Severus in a lazy manner. Severus could feel his bones mending themselves but the pain still overwhelmed him, his body aching and screaming that something still wasn’t right. He ignored it, forcing himself onto his feet and dusting the dirt off of his hands. 

“Leave us,” The Dark Lord ordered his followers, “I will call upon you soon.”

They surrounding circle bowed and apostates away, leaving Severus standing alone in the presence of the Dark Lord, painfully aware that his trial was only just beginning. 


	5. The Order

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A nice long chapter seeing as the rest have been relatively short. Please leave kudos and review, it means the world and follow me on tumblr <3

A sharp crack that echoed through the Forbidden Forest announced the arrival of Lyra Lestrange. She steadied herself on a tree, gripping desperately to its trunk as she threw up. The sensation of apparating had seemed to have triggered the nausea that had been building in the pit of her stomach over the passing hours. She spat desperately, trying to rid herself of the acrid taste that had filled her mouth. 

Prior to this moment, Lyra would’ve said she had a strong stomach. She had witnessed torture before, along with mangled bodies that had been ravaged by werewolves and other magical beasts, patients covered with the most unsightly of sores and numerous other undesirable sights, yet somehow the torture of Severus had completely unnerved her. She could still hear and picture the crunching of his bones and his screams as Macnair’s curse ripped through his body. 

She felt the bile rise as she recalled what had happened and she vomited once more. She spat again, before conjuring a goblet and some water in hopes it would both rinse the taste out and soothe her stomach. She flicked her once more, vanishing the goblet along with the small puddles of vomit. With a deep breath she gathered herself and walked in the direction of Hogwarts. 

Dodging tree roots and fallen branches, she had made it through the thicket and saw Hogwarts standing in all its glory. Usually the sight of it would take Lyra’s breath away but instead she just felt a twist of guilt, her nausea building again.

“Snape!” a loud voice boomed, “Is tha’ yeh?!”

Lyra looked towards the source of the noise and saw a half giant walking towards her. She squinted slightly, trying to confirm his identity from the small source of light from the hut and her drawn wand. She relaxed slightly as she recognised him to be Hagrid. 

“Oh, no, sorry,” Lyra said, “It’s me?”

“Me?” he questioned as he neared the witch, “Well I’ll be, Lyra Lestrange. Never though’ I’d be seein’ yeh again. Ducked out on us, didn’ yeh?”

She smiled slightly and let out a nervous laugh, “Ah, yeah I did.”

“What’re yeh doin’ here?”

“I-I-,” she stammered, her brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t know.” 

It was true. She didn’t know. Why did she rush here instead of going home to her family? Why was it so important for her to come here? Her heart was heavy, her stomach still twisted and her mind was still reeling with the events of the night. 

“Come on,” Hagrid urged, seeming to sense the witch’s distress. “I’ll fix yeh up a cuppa.”

He turned, walking in the direction of the wooden cabin that sat on the boundary between Hogwarts and the Forbidden Forest. Lyra knew it was where the half-giant resided and she had always been curious as to what it looked like on the inside. 

As Lyra approached the door she was greeted by a large black dog charging towards her with a loud bark, waving its tail in excitement. It jumped up onto Lyra, almost knocking her over, licking her face. After getting over the initial surprise Lyra let out a girlish giggle. 

“Oi! Fang!” Hagrid exclaimed, “Get down, yer brute!”

The boarhound obeyed but continued to pepper Lyra with affectionate licks on her hand. “Cute dog,” Lyra said.

“Yeh like animals?” 

“Yeah,” she smiled as she rubbed the top of Fang’s head. “I always wanted a dog or perhaps a cat but Uncle Lucius has these peacocks…”

“Peacocks? Sure sounds like Lucius Malfoy.”

Lyra exhaled a small laugh, “Pretentious and flamboyant. So yeah, no cats or dogs. He’s scared they’ll attack them.”

“Probably would ter be honest,” said Hagrid as he entered the cabin. Lyra followed after him and felt as though the warmth from the fireplace was almost like a warm hug, embracing her. She smiled softly before her eyes quickly took in the interior of the home. It was decorated with wooden furnishings and was cluttered by an assortment of objects that occupied either the floor or hung from the roof. Lyra recognised some of them to be useful for the management of the grounds and possibly some for creature taming. 

Hagrid had headed in the direction of the small kitchenette and put the kettle on. “Would yeh like sum rock cakes?” He asked, “Baked ‘em fresh this mornin’.”

“I’m fine, thanks,” Lyra said, “I don’t really have the stomach for anything right now.”

“Take a seat,” he insisted, “Kettle will be ready soon, probably help with yer stomach.”

Lyra gave him a soft smile before obliging, taking a seat on the bench that sat at the oversized dining table. Fang followed after her, deciding to hop onto the bench seat with her and rest his head on her lap. She smiled fondly and allowed her hand to absentmindedly pat the dog.

Hagrid brought her attention back by placing the fresh cup of tea in front of her. He too took a seat, sitting across from Lyra, staring at her awkwardly as she stared at her tea. 

“So it’s true then?” He asked, breaking the silence. 

She swallowed hard before looking up into Hagrid’s concerned eyes. She frowned, “Unfortunately.”

“And Snape? He’s coming back, ain’t he?”

She looked back down, seeming to fade out a bit. Goosebumps appeared on her skin as she recalled the sounds of Severus’ torture echoed through her mind. “I hope so,” she whispered. A long pause of silence echoed between them before she spoke up once again, “He took a lot. The Dark Lord wasn’t happy to see him but he seemed to warm up to him but who knows. It’s just a matter of waiting.”

Hagrid’s expression was rather grim but he nodded at Lyra’s statement.

“Do you have any parchment?” Lyra asked, “I should get a message to Dumbledore, tell him I’m here and waiting for Snape. We might need Poppy here as well.”

Hagrid nodded once more, getting up and finding a parchment, quill and ink for the young witch. Lyra quickly scrawled a message and enchanted the parchment to fly to the Headmaster. 

Now it was time to wait. 

Each minute dragged on, seemingly lasting an hour. Lyra’s ears were listening out for any sound of apparition. At least an hour passed before that crack was heard and Fang scrambled out of her lap barking, running towards the source of the sound. Lyra followed after the dog who bolted into the woods and it only took a short distance before she encountered Severus who was leaning against a tree, coughing up blood. 

“Shit,” she exclaimed, rushing to his side. He leaned hard into her and she staggered slightly, overwhelmed by the weight of him. She helped him navigate the terrain until Hagrid was a bit closer. “Carry him to your cabin,” she said. 

The half-giant easily scooped Severus up into his arms and carried him into the cabin. Lyra hastily cleared the table with a wave of her wand and Severus was placed on the bench, his eyes closed, slowly fading in and out of consciousness. All it took was a quick diagnostic spell to realise that his bones had not been healed properly and many of his internal organs had been punctured. It didn’t help that his body had just undertaken the stress of apparation. She couldn’t tell whether the Dark Lord had tortured him further or whether it was just Macnair’s poor healing skill. 

“Get Poppy,” Lyra ordered Hagrid and he nodded, exiting the hut. 

Lyra got to work with putting him into a temporary sleep and stabilising him first before addressing anything else. She ran another more extensive diagnostic spell and noticed the traces of dark magic through the fractures on the bones of his arm but to her relief there was none on his fractured ribs, though pieces had lodged themselves into his organs. It would be easy enough to heal the bones in his rib cage but to fix his organs would be a time consuming task and Lyra wasn’t sure if he’d last that long. Nonetheless, she’d have to try. 

She had just finished patching up his lungs when Poppy came in with Hagrid and Albus in tow. “What’s wrong?” The Matron asked, drawing her wand and casting a diagnostic spell. 

“Bones from his humerus down are shattered and cursed with dark magic,” Lyra answered, “Almost of his ribs were broken and fragments managed to puncture his lungs, spleen and liver. I’ve just managed to put his lungs back together so he can breathe on his own but he’s not bleeding too much.”

“Heavens,” Poppy replied, “I’ll get to work on the liver and you handle the spleen.”

With a nod both Lyra and Poppy got to work with Albus and Hagrid watching on from the side. It only took about 30 minutes for them to fully heal his torso and remove the blood build up. As Lyra moved on to address his arms Albus spoke up. 

“Could you wake him?”

“What?” Lyra and Poppy said almost in unison with the same short tone. 

“I need to speak with him.”

Lyra ignored Albus and focused on undoing the Dark Magic whilst Poppy ripped into Albus. “This man has endured torture for the past few hours and he needs his rest.”

“He can rest after I speak with him,” he insisted, “Lyra, if you please or I’ll do it myself.”

Lyra glared at him for a moment before waking the Professor with a  _ rennervate _ . Severus fluttered his eyes, beginning and the pain overwhelmed him. A hiss escaped his lips and his eyes shut tightly as he hugged himself tightly, hoping it would soothe the discomfort. 

“Sorry Severus,” Lyra said, pointing her wand at his temple and blocking the pain signals travelling to his brain. 

He relaxed, breathing heavily before attempting to get up. “Oi!” Poppy exclaimed, “You slow down, sir. You’ll undo our work.” Severus slowed down as Poppy instructed and sat up slowly on the table. He was relieved to find that he could breathe, though he wasn’t relieved to see his ex lover standing at his side. 

“What is  _ she _ doing here?” Severus asked with as much venom he could muster. 

“I asked her to come here,” Albus replied. 

“She was there tonight.”

“Again, as I asked her.”

“But you said-“

“I know what I said, Severus,” Albus responded, “I must admit I twisted the truth. I couldn’t have you dwelling on your heartbreak for too long.”

Severus shot a look at Lyra whose eyes were downcast. She couldn’t bare looking into his eyes when she was soaked in guilt. 

“But why do we need her?” he asked, “I did it alone before and I can do it again.”

“Lyra’s role is to protect you,” Albus responded, “Should you fail she will assume your role.”

“I pray you don’t,” she said. 

Severus’ jaw tensed, a sneer apparent in his face. 

“I take it he has accepted you though?” Dumbledore asked. 

“After a bit of convincing, yes,” Severus answered. 

“Good,” Albus answered, “Tomorrow we will have an Order meeting, Lyra I expect you to be present.”

“You never said anything about meetings,” she said, “The less I know, the less I need to hide, the better.”

“It’s best you are introduced to the others in case something happens,” he said, “Now, if you will excuse us for a moment Severus and I need to chat.”

Lyra exited the cabin with Poppy and Hagrid, and the three of them waited outside in a tense silence until Albus exited. “Can I leave Severus in your capable hands, Lyra?” he asked.

She screwed up her brow, questioning the Headmaster’s decision. “I doubt he’d allow it.”

“He will just have to deal with it,” he responded, “I need Poppy back at the Hospital Wing.”

With a deep exhale and a shrug she agreed and headed back into the cabin to address the rest of Severus’ wounds. There was a stiff and unnerving silence that sat amongst the occupants, occasionally Hagrid would offer his assistance or another cup of tea to break the tension but it didn’t work. It took a full hour to remove the dark magic that kept his bones separate but once it was gone healing the bones took mere minutes. 

“All done,” Lyra announced and Severus got up to leave the room with haste. “Stop,” she said grabbing a hold of his arm and pulling him to a halt. She too stood and looked him into his eyes, “You’re still under the effects of a nerve-dampening spell, once I end it you will be in pain once more. Your bones are going to ache for a while and they’ll need time to strengthen so don’t push yourself. You’ll also need to cough or breath in deeply once every hour to ensure that your lungs don’t collapse.”

“And how do you suppose I do that whilst sleeping?” Severus asked. 

“Obviously there’s a spell but I’ll need to keep watch,” she said, “Otherwise you’ll wake up suffocating.”

He gritted his teeth, “Very well.”

Lyra turned to address Hagrid, “Thank you for having us, sorry we’ve kept you up so long.”

“Not ter worry,” he responded with a smile, “As long as Snape’s alright.”

She smiled and gave a firm nod, “He will be.”

“If I die within the next 24 hours we’ll know it was Lyra’s incompetence or perhaps she murdered me,” Severus said before turning to leave. 

“Look there, already got your sense of humour back.”

Their jokes did nothing to ease the tension between them as they walked up to Hogwarts castle with a painful silence hanging between them. Lyra’s eyes would occasionally wander over to see how he was fairing. He seemed fine, even though his expression was firm there was no pain evident in his movement. 

However, Lyra’s assessment was incorrect. Although Severus could breathe again, his bones ached with the memory of their breakage and his mind was still traumatised by the ripping of his Occlumency wall. He had felt his life almost slip through his fingers and he was quick to welcome death but he still found himself alive. How much torment would he have to endure for the rest of his life?

The fact that he had to depend on and spend time with his ex-lover added more insult to injury. Lyra had been the bane of his existence ever since their love affair during her teaching stunt at Hogwarts. For those few months, she wa his world and all so quickly Lyra had ripped away his blissful ignorance and hop for the future in a few measly minutes. With that, Severus had invested all his time and effort into Dumbledore’s plan, not wanting to dwell on the trauma site had left but with her with him now he couldn’t help but ruminate on the things he didn’t allow himself to process at the time as well as question how things were now with her?

Was she happy? Did she marry that guy? Is she a mother now? Is she a good mother? Would they have been able to have a kid together? Could they have been happy together? Why did she cheat on him? Was it really all fake from the start? Did she even love him at all? And if she did, did she still love him or acknowledge that what they had was real? She couldn’t have faked it all. But she could have. Why did she have to shatter the illusion? Why couldn’t he just be happy for once in his life? Why, oh why, oh why?

He was tearing himself apart from the inside out with those questions while Lyra followed slightly behind him. Her heart ached too for denying the simple pleasure of their love all those years ago. She had mourned the death of their relationship all too many times. It made it hard for her to look at her son, heavens, it made it hard to look at Severus knowing the truth. She wondered if it would ever come out, if Severus would ever know his child but she didn’t allow herself to dwell on it too long, it just made her all too sad.

Lyra was relieved when they finally reached the dungeons and slipped into Severus’ quarters. A sense of nostalgia overwhelmed her as they entered, a small fondness in her heart grew as she recalled the nights they had shared together but there was still a bitterness that tainted it. She recognised that there had been redecorating, furniture had been moved and that rug definitely wasn’t there last time but all in all it was the same room.

“I would like to shower before I sleep,” he said.

“Would you like me to join you?” she asked with a smirk, the words slipping all too easily from of her mouth.

“No,” he answered, finding no humour in the question.

“Well, yell out if you need me,” she said, sitting herself in an armchair. “You should be fine except for a bit of residual aching from the breakage but hot water should ease it slightly.”

He seemed to take no notice in her words, instead heading to the en-suite and closing the door abruptly behind him. 

Lyra sighed, slumping into her chair and rubbing her face. She knew that this day would one day come, that not only she’d be presented to the Dark Lord but she’d be reunited with her ex-lover. She had never expected to be well-received but it didn’t make the situation easier. She couldn’t help but focus on the sinking in her chest and the sadness that overwhelmed her as memories from the room played on in her head. 

Lyra shook her head quickly, attempting to shake those thoughts from her mind and employ her Occlumency techniques as way to push aside those feelings. There was no need to dwell on it, for her to dwell on it would make it all the more easier for the Dark Lord to read those memories. She sat up, tucking the memories away and exhaled deeply as she flushed her mind clean.

Her eyes wandered to the clock, it had been several minutes since she had heard the shower stop running. Worried, she headed to the door of the en-suite to knock on the door but instead it opened as she reached it, revealing a half naked Severus with his towel wrapped around his waist. Her eyes glossed over his figure quickly before she averted her gaze, staring at the floor and swallowing. She felt a blush creep over her cheeks and she prayed it was too dark to see her frustration.

“Forgot my pyjamas,” he said, wandering over to the dresser.

Lyra looked up once more, her tongue darting out and wetting her lips slightly. Heavens, had it really been that long since she had been with a man? To be frothing over her ex-lover like this was embarrassing. She was still frozen to the spot as he glided past her and back into the bathroom for privacy.

_ Did she really just blush? _

The question drafted into Severus’ mind as he had revealed his body to her, nothing she hadn’t seen before so it was no real big deal. He felt a smirk cross his lips as he dressed himself, relishing in the fact that he could still cause that reaction in her. Surely there was still some sort of attraction towards him, one that he could play to his advantage. Maybe he should’ve taken up her offer of him joining her once more. It would’ve been a sweet homage to the past.

No.

He couldn’t allow himself to get involved with her once more, history would only repeat itself. He had a mission and he wouldn’t allow himself to get distracted, no matter how beautiful Lyra was and how wonderful she had been in bed. He shook his head, gathering his nerve to go outside and face her once more.

She had returned to the armchair, her head buried in a book she must’ve plucked from one of the bookshelves that lined the walls of his chamber. He cleared his throat to gather her attention. She peeked up from the book, “Yes, Severus?”

“I’m going to bed.”

She nodded, “Goodnight. I’ll make sure you last the night.”

“There’s some Wideye potion in the drawer of that coffee table if you need it.”

“Thanks,” she replied with a thinned smile.

Awkwardly, Severus slipped into bed and shut his eyes, hoping to sleep. Instead, he found his mind wandering and thinking of Lyra once more.  _ Could there still be something there? _

_ No. _

_ Don’t allow yourself to think of it. Don’t even consider it. Stop it. _

He began to practice Occlumency techniques, allowing his mind to run blank and soon enough he had fallen asleep.

Lyra on the other hand was struggling to stay awake. Occasionally she’d yawn, stretching out her arms and moving to get the blood flowing but her eyes were so heavy she found herself reaching into the coffee table for a dose of Wideye Potion. With that, she lasted through the night, checking on Severus every hour and casting a spell to prevent his lungs from collapsing and ensuring that he was still in a stable condition. 

He looked so peaceful sleeping, his face was just as she remembered. Time had not yet aged him. As she watched over Severus, she was reminded of the time that he had watched over her as she slept after she had impulsively trialled her remedy for psyrot on herself. She shook her head and smiled at the memory. A small sigh escaped her as she felt her heart tugging her down memory lane once more. Yet again, she denied herself, reminding herself of the importance of both of their missions.

Morning came quickly and Lyra watched as Severus stirred awake. She glanced back down at the book that she was reading as he moved off into the bathroom, emerging soon after dressed in his usual attire.

“Would you like breakfast?” he asked.

“Yes,” she answered, standing up.

“We’ll be eating here,” he said.

Lyra looked curiously at him but nodded, sitting down. She watched as he grabbed a small bell off of the dining table and rang it once. With a crack, a house elf appeared, dressed in the most outrageous outfit with mismatched socks and knitted garments. 

“Dobby is at your service, sir,” he said.

“Dobby?” Lyra repeated, gaining the attention of the house elf.

“Miss Lyra?” he asked in surprise, his eyes widened as e recognised his old mistress. “Oh, Miss Lyra, how wonderful it is to be seeing you again.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked, knowing that the House Elf had gone missing and neither her Aunt and Uncle wished to address it.

“Dobby now works for Professor Dumbledore, Miss Lyra. Dobby gets a galleon a week and a day off once a month.”

‘Wow, sounds much better than the Manor,” she said.

“Dobby does not wish to speak ill of Lucius Malfoy but Dobby enjoys his new job,” he said, “But Dobby misses Miss Lyra, she was always kind to Dobby. Oh and how is baby Corvus?”

“Good,” she said with a smile, reaching into her pocket and pulling a photo of her and her son out and handing it to Dobby. “He just turned three in February.”

“Oh, he’s as beautiful as Miss Lyra was when she was a babe,” he said with a smile, handing the photo back to Lyra. 

Lyra smiled in response, tucking the photo back in her robes. She looked up at Severus, “Guessing you wanted breakfast.”

Severus firmly nodded, “Yes.”

“Right away, sir,” Dobby responded and with a snap of his fingers he had conjured to serves of breakfast. 

“Thank you, Dobby,” Lyra said with a smile, Severus nodding in agreement.

“My pleasure, Miss Lyra,” he said, “Dobby is always happy to serve Miss Lyra and hopes he will be seeing you soon.” He disapparated with an accomplished grin.

Severus drew his wand and the table grew to a dining size and he moved the armchair around, sitting opposite Lyra. The two ate in silence, that is until Lyra decided to break it.

“Any reason we’re not dining in the staff room?”

“I don’t believe that you are staff.”

Lyra’s lips were pursed in annoyance, she glared at the wizard.

“A boy died last night,” he answered, watching her face drop. “Didn’t you know?”

She shook her head.

“I thought you were there.”

“Briefly,” she answered, “Lucius left after the call and then about an hour later he fetched me, I spoke with the Dark Lord and then you showed up.”

“And what did you speak to the Dark Lord about?”

“My loyalty,” she said, “And you?”

“The same.”

She took a deep breath in before asking, “Who was the boy who died?”

“Cedric Diggory,” he answered, “Hufflepuff, son of Amos Diggory.”

Her face fell, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. She recalled the boy, having had taught him during her year of teaching. “Same year as Fred and a George, yeah?”

He nodded.

Her hand covered her mouth slightly as she leaned on the table for support. “He was a good student,” she said, “Bright and kind.”

“There will only be more deaths. Most will be undeserving.”

Lyra nodded, exhaling and trying to calm herself. Her hands were in a praying position, her chin resting on her thumbs as she breathed out. She was shocked to say the least, discovering that such a talented young man had died. She had witnessed countless others pass when she was healing but for a child to be murdered in cold blood was disconcerting. It made her think of her own and she empathised, her heart breaking for the parents of the boy. 

Severus watched as Lyra battled to hold the tears in. For a moment he saw her as she was when she had been with him; this delicate soul who had dealt with all too much but still wore heart on her sleeve under the sass and sarcasm that littered her speech. For a moment, his heart recognised hers and he felt them connect once more. The love that was once inside him beginning to bloom once more. As much as he tried to fight and deny it, he couldn’t. All the hatred he had for her seemed to subside in this brief moment of exposure. He didn’t want to believe that her parting words bore any truth. He wanted to believe that Albus was in fact lying at the time, that Lyra was truly nothing like Bellatrix and Rodolphus but instead her own person, the person she had been fighting to be when they had met. 

How could he think otherwise as he watched her deal with the death of her former student, one she hadn’t spent much time with? Maybe it was a facade, a way to trick him into believing she was human, that he should trust her… but Severus doubted it. He didn’t know where to stand when it came to Lyra. It was all too confusing. There was love and hatred, endearment and disgust. It was all too hard to pull it apart after the years he had spent separate from her. 

The two were drawn away from their thoughts as a knocked echoed through the room. Severus answered the door with Lyra following shortly behind. The door opened up to a Minerva McGonagall who held a stern expression. She nodded and said, “It’s time.”

Wordlessly, Lyra followed the two Professors out of the castle and onwards to Hogsmeade. They headed down the shopping street and into a dingy old pub Lyra had never really taken notice of before, the Hog’s Head. They were lead to a back room and as they stepped inside Lyra recognised a few of the faces though a bounding flash of pink approached her.

“Wotcher, Lyra!” Tonks said as she embraced her cousin.

“Dora!” she exclaimed as she wrapped her arms around her. “It’s been too long.”

“No kidding,” she said as she let go of her cousin. “I heard you had a baby?”

“Yeah, he’s a toddler now. Thankfully he’s an angel, quiet and sweet.”

“I have to meet him one day.”

“That’s if you can pry him out of Aunt Cissy’s hands, I swear she think it’s her child.”

Tonks smiled and grabbed a hold of Lyra’s hand, tugging her towards two of the men who formed part of the circle. “This is Alastor Moody,” she said gesturing towards a man with a twisted face and magical eye. “He was my mentor during my Auror training.”

Lyra smiled as she took his hand, his grip firm. “I personally arrested your parents,” he said.

“Much appreciated,” Lyra said with a smirk, “Don’t know how I would’ve turned out otherwise.”

“Kingsley Shacklebolt,” Tonks said, introducing the man next him.

“Pleasure to meet you,” he said in a smooth tone, shaking Lyra’s hand.

“Pleasure,” Lyra repeated.

“Then there’s the Weasley’s who you know,” she said.

“Lyra,” Bill said with a smile.

“William,” Lyra teased as she was pulled in for a kiss on the cheek. 

“We should catch up,” his eyes wandered down slightly, almost as though he was checking her out. He observed her smirk and suggested, “Dinner, tomorrow night?”

“Sounds lovely,” she smiled before turning to Charlie and embracing him as well. Tonks went around the room and introduced her to all the members that were present. The Weasley parents were slightly standoffish but shook her hand politely. Remus Lupin took her hand, as did Sirius Black though his nostrils flared in her presence. There were others too; Aberforth Dumbledore, Rubeus Hagrid, Sturgis Podmore, Emmeline Vance, Elphias Doge, Dedalus Diggle and Hestia Jones. It was obvious that they had all heard of her to some degree, whether it be from her parentage or her works in healing.

Sometime during their introductions Albus had walked into the room and Lyra quickly exchanged her name with the rest of them with no hope in remembering all the new faces. She settled in with standing in between Bill and Tonks, finding more comfort in their companionship rather than the Professors.

“Hello, old friends,” Albus said, addressing the group. “Many years have passed since we have gathered like this, I see old faces and new.” He turned towards Lyra, Tonks and the two Weasley boys. Lyra’s face was stern, her jaw tense and downcast as he looked over. “Several we have lost of the years… And now we gather once more because Lord Voldemort has returned.”

Both Severus and Lyra’s eyes closed shut, cringing slightly at the use of the Dark Lord’s name whilst the others who did not know gasped in shock.

“Our dear Severus and Lyra both went to him last night and presented themselves to him, both under the pretense that they would spy for the Order,” he said.

“You trust  _ them _ ?” Sirius interjected, “Bellatrix and Rodolphus’ daughter and Snivellus?”

Neither of the named spoke a word, instead they both allowed Dumbledore to speak for them. “I would trust both of them with my life,” he said. 

“Probably a bit ill-placed in me,” Lyra joked but it wasn’t well received.

Albus smiled and continued to speak, “I have asked you all to come here to ask if you are willing to lay your life down for the Order, for some of you to yet again face Voldemort and his Death Eater’s once more. If not, I respect your decision but there is a war coming and it is best if we are all prepared. If you are not willing to die for what we stand for then I must ask you to leave.”

No one in the room even flinched.

“I am willing,” Alastor said.

“And I,” Kingsley chimed in.

The room erupted in a chorus of agreement.


	6. A Date

##  **A Date**

“Where in the world have you been?”

Agitation was apparent in Lucius’ voice, having spent the day wondering where his niece had gone. There was no evidence that she had returned home last night, no evidence that her bed had been slept in and it unnerved him. A part of him wanted to believe Narcissa, her insistence that she was fine, perhaps just trying to cope with the events of last night but Lucius feared that she had rushed to Severus’ aid. 

He had flooed St. Mungo’s a few times that day and the third time he had called his fears were confirmed as a witch finally answered, stating that she was at Hogwarts for back up medical attention. Lucius knew that there was no doubt that Hogwarts would need back up medical attention, given the state Severus was in. The more he knew, the more he questioned his niece and wondered if there was anything still going on between the two of them. It must’ve pained her to see someone she once loved torn apart by MacNair like that. He didn’t blame her, he was only concerned.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to,” Lyra responded as she slid in through the front door, shedding her coat. “At least you can plead blissful ignorance.”

Lucius’ face was stern, his lips pursed and eyes shooting daggers at his niece. He knew she was right so he didn’t press on. There were some things better left in the dark. Lyra was an adult now and she could fully manage herself but he couldn’t help but care for the girl that he had raised.

“The Dark Lord will be in contact and I pray you be near so if he wants you you are easily accessible,” he said through gritted teeth, “For both my sake and yours.”

“I’ll either be here or at St. Mungo’s,” she said, “I’ve got a late shift tomorrow though so I won’t be home until late.”

He rolled his eyes. It was probably a cover up, again he didn’t want to know. “Just don’t crash in your office, you have a perfectly fine bed here.”

“Thank you, Uncle,” she gave a sweet smile, “Now where’s Corvus?”

“With Cissy of course,” he said, “She’s completely enamoured. Saves her from pestering me.”

“You say that as if you don’t love Cory too,” she teased, moving up the stairs to find her son.

He wanted to smile but instead his paternal instinct kicked in. “Lyra,” Lucius said in a warning tone. She paused and looked back. “We should discuss last night.”

She thinned her lips and tilted her head slightly at her uncle, “What’s there to discuss?”

“What you’ve agreed to, you’re dedicating yourself to serving the Dark Lord.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” his eyebrow raised.

“I was there, I saw what happened. I know what it entails.”

He walked up the stairs, closing the distance between the two. “I don’t think you do.”

“Uncle,” she said, stepping down one step and facing him. “It was always going to come to this. There was always this expectation which is why I came back.” She shrugged slightly, shaking her head, “Anyway, there’s no going back, I’ve already accepted… to torture, to murder, the lot of it. If it keeps Corvus safe then I’ll do anything.”

“Don’t fail, Lyra,” he said, enunciating each word. “I’d hate to see you punished.”

She smiled, “Since when do I fail anything?”

Lyra’s shift was coming to end when she heard a clear knock on the door of her office.

“Come in,” she sang out, her quill scribbling on the parchment in front of her.

“Lyra,” said the man, gaining her attention. She looked up and smiled as she recognised the oldest of the Weasley boys dressed up and looking smart in her doorway. “I hope I’m not too early.”

“Perhaps a little,” she said sheepishly, “Just give me a second.” Her writing turned into a furious scrawl as she itched to get the final details she needed out. Meanwhile, Bill was perusing her wall, looking at certificates she had earned and some front page articles of her work. 

“All done,” she said, putting her quill down finally and standing. She looked towards Bill and smiled.

“Pretty impressive,” he said, gesturing towards the wall.

“I’ve been busy,” she shrugged on her coat and moved towards him. Both unsure what the courtesy was.

“No kidding.”

Lyra swayed awkwardly, “So, dinner?”

“Yes, dinner,” he repeated, “I made reservations at a muggle French restaurant, I hope that’s ok?”

“Sounds great,” she said, taking his arm and leaving her office. The two walked out of St. Mungo’s transfigured into fancy muggle apparel and headed down the street for a short walk to the restaurant of Bill’s choosing. There was some idle chat about how work had been and about the restaurant, apparently it was a rather famous muggle restaurant with a few awards. As the settled in to their dinner and wine the two began to share more about the years they had missed of one another. 

“So, how’s things been with you, Miss Order of Merlin?” he asked, teasingly. 

“I’m sure Tonks and Charlie have kept you all up to date regarding my escapades,” she said with a smile.

“Oh, but I’d rather hear it from you.”

She smiled, tilting her head slightly. “In short, I went to become a healer, lost motivation, became a teacher, got pregnant, eloped and moved to Russia, became a renowned healer somewhere along the way then I got divorced and came back here.”

“You make my time in Egypt sound boring,” he said with a smirk.

“Curse-breaking, right?” she asked, “I recall Charlie mentioning it class one day.”

“Yes, and I heard all about your incident with Fred and George. Mum wouldn’t let me hear the end of it. Couldn’t believe that I had dated you.”

“Uncle Lucius looked as though he wanted to skin me alive for dating you,” she said amused. “Charlie couldn’t keep his mouth shut.” She shook her head. 

“Our families have always had a bit of history,” he said, “Opposite sides of the war.”

She let out a dramatic sigh, “That much hasn’t changed.” 

“So you really saw him then?” he asked, “You-Know-Who?”

Begrudgingly, she nodded. It was only a few nights ago and she could still recall the fear that threatened to paralyse her. Where she had drawn the strength to perform, she did not know, she just hoped that it would remain with her.

“Were you scared?”

“Terrified.”

“Then why-“

“I don’t have a choice, Bill,” she cut him off and frowned. “It’s either join willingly or be forced to with my son used against me.” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing I didn’t do everything in my power to protect him and help him lead the best life, even it means betraying those who raised me. In the end he is the most important thing in my life and that’s why I’m with the Order as well. I can’t imagine him growing up in a world where the Dark Lord rules. It’s not a place  _ I _ want to live in. I’d rather die trying to fight for that and if it’s as a spy then I’ll do it.”

“You sure you weren’t meant to be in Gryffindor?” he asked, looking somewhat enamoured by the girl. “I admire you, Lyra, always have. Apart from a few moments where you went mad with the Dark Arts.”

She exhaled a laugh, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he let out a nervous laugh, “I’m sorry for breaking up with you when we were kids.”

She smiled and shook her head, “Don’t be silly, Bill. We were young.”

“But I was harsh,” he appeared disappointed with himself. “It’s just, my uncles were murdered by Death Eaters and to think that you were related some of the cruelest… I couldn’t. I’m sorry.”

“Bill,” she said, reaching out and holding his hand. “It’s in the past. I’m not stressed and I don’t blame you. I sorta reaffirmed your doubts after but look, I’m fine now and we’re both functional adults with careers and we’re fine. So don’t apologise to me again.”

He smiled. The two sat in silence eating for a moment before speaking again. “So, how is it being a mother?”

“It’s hard,” she sighed, “I feel as though I can’t give him the attention he needs. I’ve just been working and now I’m about to get caught up in this war business.” Another sigh was given before sucking in her lips for a moment. “Narcissa looks after him though and I spend every moment I can with him.”

“And how about right now?” he asked with a degree of scepticism, “Could be at home instead of here with me.”

She raised her eyes, in shock that Bill would dare accuse her of being a bad mother. “I haven’t been on a date in years, so indulge me and allow me to feel like a woman while I can. I doubt I’ll have another opportunity to in the future.”

“So that’s what we’re calling it?”

“As soon as I said dinner you knew what I meant.”

He grinned, “I did. So tell me about your ex-husband?”

She breathed out a sharp laugh, “What’s there to tell?” She swirled her wine glass, “We’re still friends. He has someone else now and he’s happy. I didn’t want to drag him into all of this anyway. It’s best if he’s in Russia with his lover and had a chance at a decent life. I couldn’t live with myself if I got him killed by associating with me.”

“What about me?”

“We’re at a muggle restaurant and you’re in the Order so you’re already willing to die for this,” she said teasingly, “No one has to know about this. We can just be friends catching up over dinner if you wish. But I wouldn’t mind more.” Her eyebrows raised with a smirk, daring him to push the boundary. “And how about you, William? Any lovers or has it just been the bachelor life for you?

“There were a few girls in Egypt, nothing long-lasting,” he said, “This war will make it difficult. Probably best if I stay single.”

“Agreed, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun in the meantime,” she said with a smirk.

“What are you implying, Lyra?” his eyes were narrowed in suspicion.

“You know exactly what I’m implying, William,” she replied, her voice teasing. 

“Did you want to stay for dessert?”

“We can get dessert  _ elsewhere _ .”

Understand the implication in her tone Bill caught the attention of a waiter and gestured he wanted the bill. Lyra reached for her wallet and Bill shook his head. “Allow me,” he insisted.

“Bill.”

“Lyra,” he said as he plucked the bill out of the waiter’s hand, not allowing Lyra to even see how much was owed.

She shook her head, “I don’t like this.”

“Too bad,” he said smugly as he handed the waiter back the bill. “You said it was a date and I’m a gentleman.”

Lyra’s head continued to shake in disapproval as they got up and headed towardsthe door. “I hate you William Arthur Weasley,” she said.

“I know.”

The witch felt guilty for allowing Bill to pay, knowing that her family was in a much better position than his. Even though he was a cursebreaker the pay couldn’t compare to what she earned as a healer. She couldn’t allow herself to dwell on it and ruin the mood. 

“So, where are you staying?” Lyra asked, looking up eagerly at the man as they paused outside the restaurant.

“Mum’s,” he said, nervously.

“Uncle’s,” she said in the same manner. “No matter, I know a hotel nearby we can spend the night at.”

“Are you sure?”

“Are  _ you  _ sure?” she asked, her eyebrows raised. “This is where you can back out and you’ll forever wonder what it was like to have the famous Lyra Lestrange, Order of Merlin, in bed.”

“Does that usually work for you?”

She laughed, “First time trying it, I’ll let you know in the morning.”

He joined in her laughter, “Come on then. Show me this hotel.”

Lyra happily tugged Bill down the street to a tall brick brick building. Their feet hit a brilliant marbled floor as they stepped inside the grand hotel. Bill looked nervously around as he noted the sheer luxury inside the building. His eyes admired the chandelier before he took note of the spiral staircase that featured in the foyer.  

Lyra had taken no notice, having been to this muggle establishment before. All in all, it was still nothing compared to the Malfoy Manor but she knew their suites boasted in luxury as well. “A room for tonight,” she said as she approached the receptionist.

“Unfortunately all our rooms our booked for this evening except for the suites,” she replied.

“One of those is fine,” Lyra insisted, pulling out her wallet to pay again. 

“You really shouldn’t,” Bill said.

“Payback,” she said as she swatted his hand away and pulled a small wad of muggle money. He quickly went silent after seeing the cost of the suite, knowing it was well out of his price range.

The two of them trekked it to the top floor where the suite was; Lyra insisting she didn’t fully trust muggle inventions and didn’t want to travel up the elevator. Lyra slotted the key into the door and pushed it open, welcoming the two to their luxury suite for the night. Pushed up against one side of the room was a bed that seemed even larger than a king, covered in rich, silky sheets. There was also a freestanding bath tub that sat between the bed and the floor to ceiling windows, giving the room an exclusive view of the city. To the other side of the room was a kitchen with a fully equipped bar that sat adjacent to the living area that had a comfortable chaise lounge. 

“Wow,” Bill said.

“Not bad,” Lyra agreed as she dumped the keys on the bar before turning. “Where to start?”

“You make me feel like your boy toy,” he said pulling her body close to his in an intimate embrace.

Lyra’s hands pressed in front of her, against his ribcage and she gave him a teasing look, her tongue darting out and her eyes squinting in amusement. “Indulge me.”

“If not?”

“Then we can stay up watch the muggle picture box thing,” she replied with a smile, nodding her head towards it. She did hope that he didn’t choose that option, but she wouldn’t have minded curling up next to him and enjoying his company in that manner.

He laughed, “Perhaps after.”

“After?”

He leaned in, breathing into her ear. His breath was hot, tickling her and running a shiver down her spine. “After I have my way with you,” he said in a harsh whisper. He pulled away, his lips capturing hers in a kiss. 

Lyra melted all too easily into the kiss, her hands moving upwards and wrapping her arms around his neck. The witch was on her tippy toes as she felt Bill coax her to move her legs and wrap them around his torso. She obliged, trusting him to support her weight with his hands firmly gripping onto her thighs and bottom. 

Bill carried her to the bed, laying her down and beginning to kiss down her neck. He was so passionate, his touch tender, even as he began to strip her of her clothing. Lyra’s fingers tugged at the bottom of his shirt, urging him too to shed his clothing. He gave in, shredding his shirt and discarding it on the floor. His blue eyes twinkled at her as his mouth returned to her body, appreciating the flesh he had just exposed. His hands were needy, running up the side of her body, enjoying the curve from her waist to her hip and then to her breast. As his mouth reached her breast, his hand grabbed her other breast and massaged it.

There were soft mewls falling from Lyra’s mouth as Bill took his time and worshipped her body. Excitement ran through her as she felt his fingers wrap around the band of her panties and tugged them down her legs. He sat up and kissed her knees as that bit of material joined the other garments that littered the floor.

“You’re beautiful, Lyra.”

She smiled at him. Gods, he was too sweet. Too soft and delicate. She was no good for him. 

But those thoughts were quickly forgotten as he began to kiss up her thighs and lead himself down to the sweetness between her legs. He too lay kisses there before spreading her lips wide with his fingers. His tongue darted out, lapping at the small amount of arousal that had gathered there. His tongue ran over her clit and sent the most delightful wave of pleasure through her that let out a soft moan.

Deciding he liked that sound, his tongue ran over it again and again, her legs began to shake on either side of him as he flicked that sensitive bud. A strained moan of frustration left Lyra’s lips, the stimulation not enough but it obviously was working her up, apparent by how slick her cunt had gotten. 

His tongue decided to wander there too, craving to taste the nectar that belonged to Lyra Lestrange. She tasted like heaven and her walls were tight around his tongue. All he wanted was to bury himself deep inside her and never let her go. He moaned in delight as his tongue was inside, the vibrations tickling Lyra and causing her to release a girlish giggle.

Bill smirked at her reaction, his tongue sliding out and instead caressing her clit once more. “Bill,” she muttered, “You’re going to drive me insane if you keep doing that and I can’t come.”

“Maybe that’s my intention.”

“Please, Bill.”

“What do you want?” he asked as he inserted a finger into her.

A moan escaped her as she felt herself finally be filled, no matter how little the stimulation was, after being teased it felt amazing. “Fuck me,” she moaned, “I want you to fuck me.”

He smiled and obliged, standing up and sucking his finger as he undid his pants and released his member.

“Holy shit,” she said, swallowing hard. “No wonder you Weasley’s are like rabbits.”

“It’s a gift,” he stood there proudly showcasing his erection.

“With a cock like that how can I not have a taste of it first,” Lyra said as she pushed herself off up the bed and sunk down to her knees front of Bill.

She looked up at him, her eyes twinkling in excitement as she kissed the tip of his cock, earning a smile from Bill. Lyra’s tongue darted out, flicking over the tip lightly before she ran lines up his length. He Hand had wrapped around the base, holding it firmly before she gave it a few pumps and took him into her mouth. She would’ve smiled had her mouth not been full of cock when Bill’s eyes fluttered closed, enjoying the feeling of her mouth wrapped around him.

Lyra sucked him until she tired, standing up and kissing Bill once more on the lips before she tugged him over to the bed, encouraging him to take her. She was sat at the edge of the bed and the red-headed man fit easily between her legs, pressing his cock deep inside her. She let out a strangled moan at the intrusion, his cock hitting her deep inside, pressing on her cervix.

“You alright?” he asked, stroking a few strands of hair from her face.

“Yeah,” she said breathlessly, looking back up at him. “Take me.”

He nodded and continued, his hips driving into hers with each thrust. She felt so tight around him, almost as though she could barely accommodate him. She blamed it on the dry spell she had had since having Corvus, there just was no time for her to worry about her needs but finally, it was being addressed.

Lyra’s hand reached between her legs, rubbing her clit furiously as Bill fucked her. It didn’t take long until her pussy was clamping hard around him and she was unravelling on his cock. She let out a list of swear words, her hands fisting the sheets as she came. Her legs were shaking and she kept whispering over and over as her orgasm ran through her. She was panting as she felt the spasms continue in her cunt.

“Fuck, Lyra,” he said, as he continued to move relentlessly. “You’re still coming.”

“Uh huh,” she said, her walls squeezing down around him.

“Fuck, I can’t,” he said, “I’m going to-”

“Come for me.”

He groaned, his thrusts slowing but reaching deep inside her as he came. He stayed there for a few moments before pulling out and scrambling through their clothes for his wand to clean up the mess. A quick scourgify and Lyra was clean once more and the two snuggled up in bed together.

“I wouldn’t mind this,” he said as he spooned her.

Lyra elbowed him in the stomach, “Hey, don’t get too used to this.”

“I know, it just makes me wonder what could’ve been.”

Her smile was bittersweet, “It could’ve been nice but alas, you’re a blood traitor.”

He snorted, “Sure am.”


End file.
